Practice
by Ray by Another Name
Summary: A short scene of background between Ben and Denny set during Season 2 while Ben is with the rebel skitters. Denny's ability to connect their spikes frustrates Ben and his attempts to control it prove only to worsen his situation. Ben's POV, 1st person, present tense.


A short scene of background between Ben and Denny set during Season 2 while Ben is with the rebel skitters. Denny's ability to connect their spikes frustrates Ben and his attempts to control it prove only to worsen his situation. Ben's POV, 1st person, present tense.

Disclaimer: I do not own Falling Skies.

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Practice

It wasn't hard finding the rebel skitters. In a weird way it's like I always know where they are. So finding them hadn't been hard. Gaining their trust had been a bit difficult, only Red-Eye really trusted me. There are other pockets of rebel skitters across the United States and the rest of the world, some of them have harnessed and deharnessed kids with them. But Red-Eye's group only has two: me and Denny.

That's what was really challenging. While I had been learning to control some of my new skills with the 2nd Mass, Denny was completely out of control. She was incredibly strong, fast, and flexible. She knew how to fight, sort of, but she didn't know how to keep herself in check. Twice, in the first week I was here, our harnesses connected and her chaotic emotions made me stumble.

Somehow, from the other side of camp, she manages to fill my mind with joy, triumph, annoyance, anger, humor, and worst of all – arousal. And then later she smiles and apologizes, shrugging like it's no big deal. But it is. And the occurrences have increased.

"Hello, Benji!" Denny greets me and I turn to scowl at this new butchering of my name. She's been trying different nicknames to 'find what fits' for the last few days.

"I don't like that one," I say as I slip the strap of my riffle over my shoulder to set it on the ground. Denny practically throws hers next to mine as I watch, "Could you be a little gentler?"

"Nah," Denny says with a shrug, not evening looking at me, "I could be rougher though."

I roll my neck, trying to release the tension brought on by the mere thought of that statement. We squared off, starting our daily sparing lesson. Red-Eye is under the delusion that fighting with me will help Denny learn control. Here in reality she's too stubborn to try. But at the very least they let me blow off some steam after her connections with me, the last one in particularly left my vision hazy and my entire body warm.

Sparing's a good outlet for my frustration. And the occasional grappling session helps a little too.

"Stop being so aggressive, if you charge head first into every fight, eventually you're going to find something that's stronger than you," I tell her for what feels like the hundredth time. She laughs at me, again.

"Ben, you aren't even stronger than me," a shiver runs up my spine at the way her voice sounds as she says my name, "What out there is stronger than us?!"

Without thinking I say, "What makes you think I'm not holding back with you?" She stands up straight, eyeing me up. I've hit a nerve, "I'm not suppose to hit girls after all."

Denny looks at me, smirking, she tilts her head. A wave of anger surges through me as a familiar blue glow emanates from my back. I can see Denny's spikes light up too and I realize all at once that she can control it, she's been using me to practice. The extra amounts of anger spur me on as I charge at her. We go through several combos, but Denny's blocking doesn't stand much of a chance when I'm not holding back.

It isn't long before I've tackled her to the ground. Suddenly the anger that's flowing into me from the harness switches to a mix of desire and mischief. I groan, "Have you seriously been doing this to me on purpose for the past six weeks?"

She grins at me, "Now what makes you think that Benji?" Sarcasm. Joy. Great, she's found a name that fits. I groan as another wave of desire moves through my body. I push away from Denny, lying on the ground next to her as I try to get control of the floodgates she's unlocked. She sat up. I can see her smirking as she presses closer to me, whispering in a breathy voice, "You could always push back."

I glare at her. She had a point. I did need to learn to control the link or I'd always be vulnerable to attacks like Karen's. And Denny's.

She stands up and the link breaks. I feel sweaty and every muscle in my body is aching, practically vibrating, from my attempts at control. She's looking at me with dark eyes and I am acutely aware of the way my jeans are straining against my erection. I close my eyes, trying to catch my breath. When I open them again Denny is gone. I'm not sure whether I'm more happy or disappointed about this.

The next day I watch her around the camp. I know she can feel my surveillance by the way her back straightens and her gaze pointedly turns in the opposite direction as me. I derive a sick pleasure in making her uncomfortable. She does it to me without even trying now. Just looking at her manages to get my body temperature up and I can't even think about her scent without my body betraying me.

When I walk up to the clearing a few hours later she is already waiting for me. She pauses midway through a boxing combination to meet my eyes. "You're lousy at recon," Denny says without conveying any of the annoyance her eyes hold in her voice. Now that I'm focusing on it I can see the control she exerts over all of her actions and I begin to wonder if she fights like a rabid dog just to spite me.

"I wasn't trying to hide myself," I shrug, avoiding my thoughts on Denny as best as I can. I set down my weapon and plop down into the dirt. Denny steps out of her stance, crossing her arms as she turns to face me fully.

She tilts her head, "What are you doing?"

"Sitting," I say, gesturing with arms to the obvious and smirking at her as she narrows her eyes.

Denny walks over to me, lowering herself down to sit in front of me. Suspicion clouds her expressions as she waits impatiently for my next move.

"Teach me how to control the link," I demand in what I consider a polite tone given our exchange the other day. She raises an eyebrow. I try again, "How do I keep you from pushing those emotions on me?" This time she starts laughing, practically falling over herself as I watch.

"You can't, Benji." She's out of breath and the effect it has on her voice is detrimental to my focus.

"Why not?" I clear my throat.

She sits up again, smiling, "Because only girls can do it. There was this unharnessed guy named Sam that I met over in Tennessee that tried for a whole month. Didn't work."

It made a weird sort of sense. I hadn't even known the link existed till Karen activated it. Plus Rick and I had never connected like this. I nodded, "So then what did you mean by me pushing back?" I lean back on my hands and she leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees as she crosses her legs. Her sweater, tugged down in the center by gravity, reveals the fitted tank-top beneath.

"Eyes up, Benji," Denny says, smirking as I duck my head, "And just because you can't control the link, doesn't mean you can't keep me from controlling it." I look up at her, eyebrow raised, "Once I establish the link, you could push your emotions onto me just as easily I push mine onto you."

It's only a second or two before I realize the implications of that statement, "Those are your emotions?"

Denny blushes for the first time since I met her, "Well, at first anyway. You feed on them a lot more than I thought you would."

I clear my throat again, avoiding eye contact. I'm very aware of what she is referring to, "How do I do that then?"

"Focus and practice," Denny says as a grin grew on her face and moments later I felt the now familiar heat of our connection. My spikes' glow shining in my peripheral.

I feel amusement at first and then I try to focus on another emotion, to push hers away. Individually I focus on annoyance, anger, and even joy; but her amusement overcomes them quickly. So instead I focus on lust. The very thing that seemed to be controlling me since I met Denny.

Her amusement ebbs away and I watch Denny's face as it takes effect. Her eyes flutter closed and she licks her lips. She sits up straight, hands gripping her knees with white knuckles. I bite my lip, my throat dry as I try to swallow. A wave of pleasure pushes back at me and I focus harder.

I want to win, to beat Denny at whatever this is. She breaths my name and a particularly painful throb reminds me of the effects this is having on my own body. I shudder as I watch her rub her hand over her neck.

Longing. Hunger. The two seem to mix in my head and I'm not sure whether they come from her or from me, but I focused on them. She was breathing heavy, her lips parted and her chest heaving. I wanted to reach out, to touch her. I wanted her.

Denny moans as a look of ecstasy washes over her face and I feel it rush at me. Stars explode in front of my eyes as I shut them. The connection breaks and I fall back onto the ground. Denny is lying in the dirt not far from me. Every cell in my body is aware of her movements, of her.

"Wow, Benji," her voice is quiet, almost a sigh, "You learn quick."

I smile, I'm not sure why, "I've always picked things up pretty fast." I hear her move. I don't expect to see her looming over me. Her eyes focus on my heaving chest.

"We'll see about that," it's almost a threat, and it feels like she's trying to kill me when she straddles my lap. When our lips meet I have the eerie feeling that I won the battle, but Denny is going to win the war.

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